Lost Soul
by Maddeninglylost
Summary: The perfect Pevensie, they said. The tragedy, they thought.


**Fair warning, this makes no sense. Thanks for reading, even if you only get through the first sentence.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Narnia or anything affiliated with it. I make no profit from this.**

* * *

She wanted to be there when the world ended.

She had been taken from her life, her friends, her dreams. He took her from her world, and he would pay like no one ever had before.

* * *

It was picture day at school. Her mother primped and pulled at her hair until it was perfect, even though she would probably be barely visible in the class photo: she was rather tall and always placed in the back.

"The pride of the family," her mother said. "our beautiful Susan." She didn't feel beautiful, she felt fake.

She had always hated taking pictures. The long wait for the camera man to get positioned and the burn of her fake smile. She resented the girls' whispers behind her back.

Her curls had began to fall by the time her class's photo had been taken. She knew her mother would never know, but she felt the burn of disappointment that she tried so hard to avoid. Everything in her life was to avoid it.

She knew she was beautiful. How could she not? By the time she could talk she had been called out for her pretty face.

It was a burden.

* * *

Her fourteen birthday was in Narnia, or at least the first one was. Cair Paravel lit up with the fireworks they put in the sky in her honor.

It was the first time in her life she felt like her happiness was completely her own. Sure, Susan had been happy before, but every time she had smiled she made sure it was not too wide, and every time she had laughed she made sure it was not too loud.

This was not the case at her first fourteenth birthday.

The city had cheered when she came out onto her balcony. They loved her, and she loved them. The Narnian people did not care if her posture was perfect or if she had her hair pulled up perfectly.

They didn't care, but she did, even though she tried so hard not to. She saw her sister running bare foot through the kingdom with the joy of her heart on her face, and she was envious. How could Lucy just…not care?

She had Narnia wrapped around her finger, but it wasn't enough.

No beauty would ever be enough.

* * *

The first person to ever court her was a young dryad with dark skin and darker eyes. It would have been a wonderful thing, but it was a secret.

Or it was supposed to be, anyways.

Susan never wanted her brothers to be disappointed in her, but she knew they would be if they knew.

She found out later that she was very, very wrong about that.

She loved her dryad with the dark eyes, and he made her the happiest person in Narnia. They would spend hours talking about nothing, and slowly she lost some of the burdens she forced on herself. He was the best thing she ever had.

He loved her too, and was very vocal about it. He would tell her every day they were together, and her heart almost burst every time he did.

Lucy was the only one of her siblings that knew about her dryad, and that was only because she was so close to all the Narnian subjects.

She only wanted what was best for Narnia, she told herself. This was all for the good of her kingdom, she thought. Letting him go was for the best. She was only lying to herself.

She told him that she had to end it, that it was the best thing to do.

"Best for who?" he yelled, with tears running down his face. "For me? For you? Be honest Susan. The only one this is the best for is all your self doubts." He threw a ring at her and ran off.

She never broke face, but her heart broke.

She would wear that wooden ring for years.

* * *

She had a dream about Aslan when she was twenty, the first time.

"Beware Susan, be careful. You will fill yourself with poison. Do not do this to yourself, dear one. I beg of you." His face was worrisome.

"What can I do?"

"Change"

She wouldn't see him for many years.

* * *

When she looked at their picture she could feel their laughs. It burned a hole in her heart like nothing she had ever felt.

It made her want to die too.

There was no one left to disappoint, but she still couldn't let it go. She would weep and burn and feel like the world was on top her demanding of her things she didn't know how to give, but she just couldn't give it up.

She would paint her face into the girl they wanted to see, and she would be the pride of her family: just like how her mother trained her to be. The perfect Pevensie girl, they said.

The tragedy, they thought.

Inside she was dead.


End file.
